I am Molly Hooper
by pigpuffpickle
Summary: Molly is dead. But she's a ghost, stuck in the land of the living until she can find out how she died. But she's forgotten things. From her favourite food, to her surname, to the mysterious Sherlock Holmes. But can she solve her own murder before the killer strikes again? Better than the summary makes it out to be, I promise! R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**-I am Molly Hooper-**

**Chapter One**

I'm dead. I've been dead for about a week I think. I don't know how I died, I don't know where, I don't know why and I don't know how. I can't remember the week leading up to my death, or other parts of my memories. Really random things, like my favourite foods. It's like my brain right clicked and deleted things.

I'm a ghost, if you like, stuck on the land of the living, unable to cross the border to the land of the dead. But why?

Make a list Molly. A list of the most important things you can remember.

1. My first name is Molly. I don't know what my second name is.

2. I work in a morgue. Well, worked.

3. My father is dead, but I can't remember his name or what he looks like.

4. I think I'm between the ages of 28-31.

5. I have (had) a cat.

6. I live in London.

Right. Now what?

I looked around my surrounds. I recognised the street, but couldn't name it. I was about five minutes away from the morgue, where I worked.

People walked past me, not noticing me. I was used to it. They wouldn't have noticed me if I was alive either.

Suddenly, a man in a business suit came storming down the street, shouting down the phone, coming towards me. I didn't move.

He ran right through me.

I shuddered. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. It was like diving into a cold bath, and emerging from it again.

I sighed, and decided to walk up to the hospital, to the morgue. Maybe I could find out something there.

As I passed, I saw my reflection in a shop window. I didn't look too bad. Pretty even. I was wearing my work clothes. Had I died in them? Perhaps.

I reached the doors to the hospital about five minutes later, and froze suddenly.

Sherlock.

Why had that name popped into my mind? Did I know a Sherlock?

I shook my head, and pressed on. Maybe the morgue would give me some answers.

**A/N: Yes, I know, this chapter is pretty boring. But it will pick up soon enough, and will be a whirlwind of adventure! **


	2. Chapter 2

**-I am Molly Hooper-**

**Chapter Two**

The morgue. I feel safer here. It's like my home. I was always a lot closer to dead people. I felt comfortable around them. And, well, now I am one of them. Only a matter of time I suppose.

There is people there, gathered around a table. I narrow my eyes, and joined them.

I knew them. Well, I thought I did anyway.

Four people where gathered around the body on the table.

The only woman was tall, with frizzy black hair. Somethingorother Donovan.

The older man, with greying hair was Greg Lestrade I think. A detective or police officer.

The next man was quite short, and cuddly looking. John Hutson was it? No, it was Watson.

The last man, the tallest there, was standing with his hands covering his face. I couldn't really see him. Then he looked up. I didn't know who he was. He had short curly dark hair, and high cheek bones and was very skinny. Too skinny. Who was he?

"Well, Sherlock?" Greg Lestrade asked the man. Sherlock. So this was Sherlock. I still didn't understand who Sherlock was, and why I only knew his name.

Sherlock rubbed his face and let out a huge sigh, "I don't know, I just….don't know,"

Nobody said anything. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.

"John," Sherlock spoke up. John glanced up, "Talk me through it again,"

John sighed, and then coughed, "Well, she was sliced from the top of the throat," He pointed at said place, "Down to the stomach, and then, um, her organs were ripped out. Probably the intestines, then the stomach, then they broke the ribs and got the lungs and heart, then the last of them,"

Sherlock slammed the table, and everyone jumped, including me, "Well where are the missing organs? Did they just grow legs and wander off?"

He left the room with a flourish. John groaned, and followed, then Greg and Sally.

I approached the table.

I felt a scream rise in my throat.

The body on the table. It was me.


	3. Chapter 3

**-I am Molly Hooper-**

**-Chapter Three-**

I grab my stomach, suddenly feeling sick, and turn. I can't bear to look at the body- _my body- _on the table anymore.

I sink into the floor. I'm sure if I could breathe, I'd been panting heavily, and if my heart could beat, it would be beating pretty fast.

I compose myself, and run my hands through my hair, standing up. I'm shaking, and I grab onto the nearest desk to steady myself.

I was murdered.

And this Sherlock, whoever he was, seemed to not know how. And by the looks on John and the others faces, that was a pretty bad thing. So, I suppose, the first thing I had to do was go to Sherlock's house. Ok, it wasn't the most important thing to do at this time but he might have more information about my death, and maybe I can find out more about him. So, I should go to his house. Which would be fine…

If I could remember where he lived.

I sighed, and racked my brains for something, when I suddenly heard voices coming from outside the morgue. Sherlock and John.

If I ran, I could catch up with them, and follow them home. Without a second thought, I kicked my heels up and began to pursue them.

It didn't take long to catch up, but when I did, I had to walk swiftly. God, how fast did that man walk? John seemed to have trouble with keeping up too.

"So you really have no clue?" John said.

Sherlock pulled a face, and turned the corner sharply, exiting the hospital.

"Obviously John, or I would have said otherwise,"

John sighed impatiently, but didn't say anything else. They called a taxi, and I joined them into it, and listened to the address John called, in case I needed it in the future.

"221B Baker Street, please,"

The taxi began to drive, and Sherlock and John sat in silence, both staring away from each other.

We drove for about ten minutes before reaching the destination. It was a little flat next to a café.

I had a suddenly flashback.

"_Either way, Miss Hooper has lurve on her mind and- oh." Sherlock opened the gift tag on the present and stopped dead in his tracks. _

"_You always say such horrible things," Molly laughed sourly, "All the time,""_

I blinked, and shook my head. When was that? It was around Christmas time anyway. And it was in the flat I was about to enter. I don't know how I knew that, I just did.

I followed them up the stairs, and into the room. Ah, how could I have forgotten? I remembered the smiley spray painted face on the walls, the gunshots, even the skull.

But I still couldn't remember this Sherlock bloke.

My thoughts were interrupted by John coughing loudly and saying, "Well, I'm off to buy some milk," Sherlock didn't reply, but went and lay across the couch, hands pressed together, "…bye,"

John left, and Sherlock didn't move. I walked around the flat, quickly glancing at everything when another name popped into my mind.

Shaun.

Shaun Matthews.

My current boyfriend. Well, my boyfriend before I was hacked and my organs removed.

I could even remember where he lived, and how to get there.

I'd visit soon, but for now, I wanted to stay in Sherlock's. I felt…somewhat safe.

Sherlock sat up suddenly, and sighed, running his hands over his face.

"What happened to you Molly Hooper?"

I narrowed my eyes, and thought to myself, "I wish I knew,"

**A/N: Yeah, I haven't updated in a while. Forgive me! And it was a boring chapter too. But worry not! In the next chapter stuff will go down! **


	4. Chapter 4

**-I am Molly Hooper-**

**-Chapter Four-**

Where was it Shaun lived? Oh yes, that house at the bottom, with the garden gnomes. Always had a thing about garden gnomes, so he did.

I slipped into the garden. He always kept it so tidy. I liked that. I think I wanted a garden when I was a little girl. I think I lived in a flat, I'm not too sure. I lived in one before I died.

I pushed open the gate slowly, and slipped in, taking in all the flowers and gnomes and even the pond. I missed it, even though it was there in front of me.

I was surprised to find the door was open. I walked in.

The flat hadn't been cleaned in a while. Dishes piled were piled up in the sink, and take away wrappers piled the floor. It was a big difference from the garden.

I walked around the house, but he was no where to be seen. I wandered into his bedroom, which was on the ground floor. It always surprised, as I'd assumed bedroom's where meant to be upstairs, but oh well.

I looked around, but nothing was there. I turned, and tripped on the edge of the rug in the middle of the floor. I fell over silently, pulling the edge of it up from underneath me.

I rubbed my head, although I felt no pain. I looked down in horror. There was a door underneath the rug. Well, a trap door really. Something that would lead you down to the basement.

There was a latch on the trap door. I leant over, and went to pull it up, when I door swung up and Shaun stood at the door.

I froze, forgetting he couldn't see me. I jumped up, and stumbled backwards.

He knelt down wordlessly, and pulled the latch up, opening the trap door and slipping down the stairs behind it. He closed it behind him, and I heard him lock the door from the other side.

Damn.

Deciding to come back another time, and left the house. When I reach the end of the garden, and stopped in my tracks.

_Being dragged across the floor. Screaming. Begging._

"_Please! Stop"_

"_Shut up bitch," _

What was that? Had I had another flashback?

Felling like I was being watched, I quickly left the garden. I didn't feel safe near Shaun's house- I didn't when I was alive either. But why?

Maybe it was something to do with the trap door.


End file.
